Thursday, March 31, 2011

Not much to say here. Kinda just wanna erase it from my mind. How bout the song? "Everybody's looking at you, so hotttt, sooo coooool!" How long until Teebs is smited by God for his vanity? 0:15 is kinda funny - I mean that can't be an eyefuck. What goes through his head when he sees chicks like that? "Oh yeah I'd make out with her til her lips bled! Hug her until my arms fell off!"

Other than meeting Skip Bayless or losing a limb, having a burrito collapse might be the single worst thing that can happen to someone in their life. This particular catastrophe can be blamed on the timid wrap of some novice scrub at Chipotle (thanks for the oval-shaped burrito you lintlicker).

I'm not gonna go grab a fork to clean up the rubble. You've just fucked up my whole day. This can't even be called a burrito anymore. It's nothing more than an orb of Mexican chafe. As if not taking Eagle Bucks wasn't enough, this is surely the straw that broke the Fratsby's back. See ya never Chipoodle.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Son, we live in a world that has bars, and those bars have to be guarded by bouncers. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Jenkems? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep on Thursdays, and you curse the bars. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That J-Tree's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me in that bar, you need me in the bar. We use words like funnel, blackout, Loko. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freshness that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a beer, and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

The Daily Mail - When author Sheridan Simove sat down to write his new book, What Every Man Thinks About Apart From Sex, he drew a blank... literally. So he had it published anyway with a front cover and 200 completely empty pages. But it's proved a cult hit and has outsold both Harry Potter and the Da Vinci Code within weeks of its release on cyber bookshop Amazon.com. The £4.69 masterpiece has transcended its original purpose as a novelty gift, and is being used by students as a lecture notebook. And it's selling by the thousands.

Nottingham university student Jess Lloyd told the Telegraph: 'I bought a copy for my mate as a joke and he started using it as a note pad for lectures. Now everyone seems to have one. It’s started a real craze on campus.' Mr Simove, 39, an Oxford University graduate, author, performer and entrepreneur, said: 'I never anticipated that my book would be used for students to take their lecture notes in.'In a sense they are proving me wrong by filling my book with content. But I wonder how many of them go back to thinking about sex once the lecture is over. 'The item has sold out its first print run, slotting in at number 744 on Amazon's list, ahead of Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code (2,910) and JK Rowling's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2,406).

You know those moments when you're just like, 'That should be me, I could easily have done what that sonofabitch did'? Yeah, you could say that this is one of those times. Dude fills the book with blank pages and just sells it the fuck out on Amazon? Cannot believe he beat me to that shit.

I know I know, it's obvious. But it's valid. For whatever reason I click on you when you're green, and then you're gone, like a raven in the night. Zuckerberg still has some kinks to work out. Matter of time.

Just in case you forgot, this is one of the best scenes of all time. I painfully regret not having it in my Top 5. If you watch the whole thing and don't get chills by the end, may God have mercy on your soul.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

One of the best scenes from Old School was coming up when all of a sudden, BC cable channel 48 turned into the TV Guide network. Channel 49 followed suit. Thank God channel 47 was unaffected. Everyone could use more channel 47.

Am I the only one who hasn't seen a single difference in Gasson's appearance since the construction crews have been out there? I don't really care that much (hence this being a baby and not a fully matured chafe) but I just want answers. What are those buffoons getting up to in there? Talking chicks? Debating where Cam Newton would fit best? Playing Words With Friends? What exactly is the finished product even supposed to look like? Are the rumors about the zipline leading straight to the Plex true? If all that heavy-duty weaponry is gonna be out there until I graduate that place better look fucking sexy upon completion.

Back in the day (I’m talking elementary school), it didn’t take much for a girl to grab my attention. If she wasn’t huge, she was an automatic 6. If she had long hair, that brought her up to a 7 at least. From there, it was all about popularity. What made a girl popular other than looks? Style and attitude. Even if a girl was skinny with long hair, I wasn’t chasing her if she didn’t have a choker necklace. If she rocked the choker necklace, I dreamed about unfreezing her in a fresh game of freeze tag during morning recess. I wanted to walk her home from school if and only if her neck was covered by that twisting piece of plastic. It's hard to believe that a single accessory was such a deal-breaker, but it was. Life was simple back then: wake up, race to school, some simple multiplication, play running bases or pick-up football, eat, scope out the choker necklaces, try to impress the girls with said necklaces, spread rumors about who liked who, cry after losing in gym class, color inside the lines, then go home and get a neighborhood game of cops and robbers or manhunt going.

Life was also socially simple. A girl was either skinny or fat: there was no other distinguishing feature about her body. Because of that, guys had no choice but to scope out the neck. And I’d be damned if a rumor spread about me liking a girl who didn’t sport one of those bad boys. I don’t think that I’ve ever encountered an Aphrodisiac as strong as a choker necklace. Back in the day when I’d think about my perfect wife, she definitely would have been rocking a choker at the altar. Now they sit in the shadow of society. Someone out there, please bring these back. I miss them.

Stealing family phone upgrades is as common as playing with the Vancouver Canucks in NHL '11. I don't know the exact time you have to wait to get an upgrade, but I do know that in a family of six, there is always one to be had. Sisters and mothers are the easy ones to pray on. As far as I'm concerned, they don't know what an upgrade is (I really hope they aren't reading this). Us technologically savvy Men know how many tins an upgrade can save you. The prices get rolled back and instead of dropping big dough on the new iFresh 4 for Verizon, you pay a measly 2hundo. With that being said, there is nothing worse than going in to a store to use an upgrade you've been saving since your 2004 LG Chocolate, only to find out you've been swindled by another family member. You're in as bad a mood as when you found out Chris Farley OD'd on drugs, but you eat it, because you know that you can't puppy guard your upgrades. It's a first come first serve type of thing. If I happen to drop my blueberry in the toilet and I need a new phone, well, tough luck for you Pops, I'm taking your upgrade.

ESPN.com - Oakland A's pitcher Dallas Braden is a master of the offseason getaway. Last year he traveled to Amsterdam, where he made snow angels in Dam Square and toured the Medieval Torture Museum. This winter he spent three weeks roaming Japan and Thailand, where he experienced the thrill of feeding a baby tiger and riding around the jungle on the back of an elephant.

Braden was accompanied by his close friend and fellow free spirit, San Francisco Giants closer Brian Wilson, the man who struck out Nelson Cruz for the final out of the 2010 World Series. On several mornings Braden rose to the sound of "The Beard'' cackling gleefully. As recurrent wakeup themes go, it was a lot more enjoyable than Bill Murray being roused by Sonny and Cher at 6 o'clock in "Groundhog Day.''

"There were days when we'd wake up and he just started laughing,'' Braden said. "I was like, 'What?' And he would say, 'You threw a perfect game and I won the World Series. That's not funny to you?'''

During their conversations, Wilson recounted the Giants' entire championship odyssey -- from the team's late-season National League West title push to the magical October run all the way through the ticker-tape parade. The more Wilson reflected on his experience, the more life-altering and vivid it appeared in Braden's imagination.

"You could hear it in his voice,'' Braden said. "It's something that can never be taken away from you. Never, never, ever, ever. Was I jealous? Yeah, I was 100 percent jealous. I was 4 million percent jealous.''

Guys, you're not fooling anybody. First of all, look at you both. You play for California teams, you're taking off-season trips to Amsterdam, Japan and Thailand. Say these out loud in a stoner voice and tell me I'm wrong:

"There were days when we'd wake up and he just started laughing." "I was like, 'What?' And he would say, 'You threw a perfect game and I won the World Series. That's not funny to you?'''

Just imagine for a second receiving this e-mail. You see that you've got an e-mail from ResLife or University Housing or whatever it may be and you're thinking of the million reasons as to why you might be fucked. The booze they found, the drugs they confiscated, the dead hooker under your bed. Semen pipe cloggage isn't exactly the first thing that pops in your head, is it?

"We have encountered such clogs before, but never in this quantity." Two parts to that sentence. First, they're making it sound as though students are clogging the shit out of pipes with semen every weekend, and second, that these guys are producing Tiger Woods style volumes of it. Like I'm imagining maintenance guys in hazmat suits or something. "As you are probably aware, semen is not water-soluble." As you apparently aren't aware, nobody is aware of that. That's why students at your school are racking up $700 jizz bills.

But you have to love the last bit too. Basically as if to say, "Guys, we're fine with you jerking off like wild hyenas, just please do it at your desk and not in the shower."

No love for JimDoggy. Read Rick Reilly's article ripping him to shreds here. I was torn between Sullinger and Kemba but ended up voting with the majority. And Nolan Smith is a poor man's Eric Snow in my opinion.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Bieber obviously slated to make an appearance in Season 4 of Fantasy Factory (watch full trailer). Let's put the world tour and the movie and everything else aside. First it's the Selena Gomez chatter. Then he surfaces at the All Star game. Then he's at the Oscars essentially spitting Gomez in our eye. Now the Fantasy Factory with Dyrdek? Let me say this. If Bieber, Dyrdek, and Timberlake get in a room together Zuckerberg should start to worry about losing control of the universe.

So ESPN wrote a great article a couple of days ago about Tony Gwynn and his battle with salivary gland cancer (read the full one here). He has just been pronounced cancer free and will be returning to the San Diego St. dugout this season, which is awesome. But this article, which focussed on the culture (the dip culture) within the Padres locker room during Gwynn's time there, had some pretty hysterical parts (the parts that don't involve cancer). Here are some of my favorites:

"From 1982 to 2001, the San Diego Padres' clubhouse would reverberate with the most stirring laugh. The sound was part hyena, part grammar school, and even the most jaded veterans would chuckle along with it. Shortstop Garry Templeton would hear the laugh while smoking a cigarette and nod in approval. Pitcher Goose Gossage would hear it while chugging a beer and offer a thumbs up. Third baseman Graig Nettles would hear it while lighting a teammate's shoe on fire and deliver a wink."

"But something was lurking in those same photos. Look closer at the pictures. On the right side of his face, close to his lip, there was always something inside his mouth.

A pinch -- make that a pouch -- of smokeless tobacco."

"To the public, baseball was as American as apple pie. But there were San Diego Padres who actually would eat their pie with tobacco in their cheek. "I literally watched guys have dinner with a dip in their mouth," former Padre Kurt Bevacqua said. "That stuff is flat-out nasty.'"

"It's an addiction from what I hear. I talked to a guy, and I said, 'Put it in perspective for me.' And he said, 'Mark, what's your favorite candy bar?' I said, 'Probably Snickers; if I'm craving something, I really enjoy a Snickers bar.' He goes, 'Well, times that by 100, and that's what a dip is to me. When I wake up in the morning, I have got to have a dip.'"

"Gwynn had had the same morning habit -- brush your teeth, then fire in a dip -- since he was playing rookie ball in Walla Walla, Wash."

"When he was a young major leaguer, he said, he began using -- at his house, at his locker and out in right field -- a can and a half of Skoal every day. You could see the circular can in the back pocket of his baseball pants. He would leave plastic cups full of chew, which were quasi-spittoons, around his family's kitchen. In the late '80s, his young son, Tony Jr., mistook one for a cup of juice and drank it."

"He says he'd sneak out of his house at 2 a.m., "like a criminal,'' to drive to a local convenience store to buy his tobacco. He did this so frequently a woman behind the counter wouldn't want to sell it to him. She knew who he was, knew he was hooked."

I think I speak on behalf of all of us when I say we're glad you alright, Tony.

Kate Upton is the 18-year-old SI Swimsuit model people have been fawning over for the last few months. Why do you think that might be?... Jenkems is obsessed with her. To the point where I'm not even allowed to speak about her. Fucking weirdo.

Anyways, according to her Wikipedia page (reliable yet unreliable) Upton has modeled for Victoria's Secret and will appear in the Spring/Summer 2011 sleepwear collection. I think you'll all (by 'all' I mean men and women of all sexual orientations) agree that this was pertinent enough information for me to share.

Evan Ravenel, for those of who who are not familiar, had an epic one year stint at the end of Al Skinner's bench in 2008-2009 when he was a Freshman. To be honest, had no idea what had happened to him once he left. I turn on the OSU v. Kentucky sweet 16 game the other day, another one of these hood dance circles forms around some random, dougying player (I think legit every college hoops team does this now (how do they decide who gets to dance?)), and from the depths comes Ravenel, shaking it like he used to in Gonzaga.

There is something about being on a roof that just tickles you the right way. When you're on a roof, it probably means one of two things; you're doing something illegal, or the weather is just too damn nice to not try and get closer to the sun (I'd say 95% of the time it is both). Roofs aren't made to be living rooms but there definitely are the flat roof tops that just ask for it. The harder the access to the roof, the more rewarding it is when you get out there. I've seen 300 lb men try and climb through a window just so they can feel the tranquility of being on a roof. You become all seeing when you're that high up. Life just seems to make sense on a roof. Plus, you have the upper hand if you were to have to throw something at someone.

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